On October 1, 2025, the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) took the rare step of severing its decades-long partnership with the Anti-Defamation League (ADL), a move that has sent ripples through law enforcement, advocacy circles, and the broader political landscape. The decision, announced by FBI Director Kash Patel just hours before Yom Kippur, came in the wake of mounting criticism from conservative figures over the ADL’s inclusion of mainstream right-leaning organizations in its now-removed "Glossary of Extremism."
Director Patel, in a pointed social media post, declared that the FBI "won’t partner with political fronts masquerading as watchdogs." This statement, echoed in subsequent interviews and press releases, marked a sharp departure from the Bureau’s traditional reliance on the ADL for training, research, and briefings on hate crimes and extremism. According to The Media Line, Patel further criticized former FBI Director James Comey for having "embedded FBI agents" with the ADL, making clear that such arrangements were "a thing of the past."
The immediate catalyst for the break was the ADL’s online glossary, which had listed Turning Point USA—a prominent conservative group founded by the late activist Charlie Kirk—alongside more widely recognized extremist entities. The glossary described Turning Point USA as having a history of "bigoted statements," a charge the group vehemently rejects. After a wave of backlash from figures like Elon Musk and Donald Trump Jr., the ADL removed the glossary, stating that certain entries had been "misrepresented and misused."
This episode is just the latest in a series of controversies surrounding so-called "watchdog" groups and their influence over public discourse and law enforcement policy. As reported by the New Tolerance Campaign, these organizations have long claimed a monopoly on defining "hate" and "extremism," with their labels often serving as gatekeepers for social trust and, sometimes, as justification for punitive measures by private and government actors. In the words of Elon Musk, who weighed in early on the morning of the announcement, "The SPLC is an evil organization that spreads hate propaganda relentlessly. It needs to be shut down." While Musk’s assessment is undeniably provocative, it resonates with many who feel that such groups wield outsized, unaccountable influence.
The ADL, for its part, responded to Patel’s announcement by expressing "deep respect" for the FBI and emphasizing its ongoing commitment to "protect the Jewish people" amid what it described as an unprecedented rise in antisemitism. The group underscored its long history of working with local, state, and federal authorities, hosting training sessions and providing briefings on hate crimes and extremism. The ADL’s website notes that the FBI has relied on its data and research as far back as the 1940s, and that U.S. officials have participated in ADL events for decades.
Former FBI Director James Comey, now facing criminal charges himself, was effusive in his praise of the ADL during his tenure. At a 2014 ADL summit, he described the organization’s leadership in tracking and exposing domestic and international terrorist threats as "a love letter," and reiterated three years later, "We are still in love with you." That era of close cooperation has now come to an abrupt end, raising questions about how federal agents will engage with organizations that monitor antisemitic threats moving forward.
The broader context of this rupture includes a growing backlash against advocacy groups perceived as overstepping their mandates. The Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC), another high-profile watchdog, has come under similar fire for its "hate map," which critics say unfairly lumps mainstream organizations together with fringe extremists. As the New Tolerance Campaign argued, "When self-described ‘watchdogs’ manufacture moral panics, they don’t reduce hate, rather they cheapen the term, dull public vigilance, and push our institutions toward selective enforcement."
Supporters of the FBI’s break with the ADL argue that it is a necessary correction to prevent "outsourced bias" from coloring law enforcement priorities. As Patel put it, "The FBI will no longer rent out its building or their badge to politicized third parties." This perspective holds that government agencies must anchor their work to constitutional rights and objective criminal indicators, not to the shifting definitions of advocacy groups—no matter how well-intentioned.
Yet, this move has not been without controversy. Civil rights advocates and many in the Jewish community worry that the severing of ties could weaken the fight against antisemitism and hate crimes. The ADL, while acknowledging its critics, maintains that its work is essential for tracking and countering threats to Jewish communities and other vulnerable groups. The group also rejects accusations that it conflates criticism of Israel with antisemitism, though it does contend that "certain forms of anti-Israel rhetoric and activism delegitimize Israel and its existence, and are antisemitic when they vilify and negate Zionism."
The fallout from Charlie Kirk’s assassination in September has only intensified the debate. Kirk, a polarizing figure, was both lauded by supporters as a champion of conservative values and criticized by opponents for rhetoric perceived as racist, anti-immigrant, and transphobic. The inclusion of his organization in the ADL’s glossary became a flashpoint for broader grievances about viewpoint policing and the boundaries of legitimate dissent.
In the wake of these developments, several recommendations have emerged for reforming how law enforcement engages with advocacy groups. The New Tolerance Campaign, for instance, has called for transparent vetting of third-party trainers, independent review panels to audit reliance on external "hate" or "extremism" designations, the inclusion of ideologically diverse perspectives, sunset clauses for partnerships, and a renewed focus on first principles—namely, constitutional rights and objective evidence.
Some see the FBI’s decision as a win for accountability and a necessary step toward restoring public trust in the neutrality of federal law enforcement. Others warn that it could leave a vacuum in the monitoring of hate crimes and antisemitic threats, especially at a time when such threats are reportedly on the rise. The debate is far from settled, and the coming months will likely see renewed scrutiny of both government agencies and the advocacy groups that have long shaped their policies.
As the dust settles, one thing is clear: the break between the FBI and the ADL represents more than just a bureaucratic reshuffling. It is a flashpoint in an ongoing struggle over who gets to define hate, extremism, and the boundaries of acceptable speech in American society. Whether this move ushers in a new era of transparency and fairness, or simply shifts the battleground elsewhere, remains to be seen.
